Down the Rabbit Hole
by Mistress Lucille O'Grady
Summary: Darren escapes his fate but the universe will correct it self. Things will happen as they are meant too, and a new child shall be chosen. The choice has been made.
1. Chapter 1: Enter the Circus

**Enter the Circus**

My name is Lucille O'Grady. I am eighteen years old. I do well in school, and work hard to support myself. I never have much money though but I do the best I can. I want to be a pathologist but that will cost a lot of money. Luckily, I am smart, and scholarships pay for most of my school. Funny, when I think about it, but I never knew my strange love of school would be my fall into the rabbit hole.

When Steve Leonard first asked me out, I told him no. We met in a freshman orientation class six months ago and the friendly (not to mention cute) young man had befriended me when no one else seemed to notice. Steve notices me. After denying him a few times I gave in. How could I resist? Steve is nice, funny, and good looking, although I could do without his supernatural obsession. I am firmly rooted in science so we have never agreed when he insists that such things are real. Yeah right! Ghost, goblins, demons and vampires are no more real than the fictional characters in books and movies. He cares about me though and made a pretty good drinking buddy to boot! I feel lucky to have someone in my life such as him.

I cannot remember how I actually stumbled across it but as soon as I saw the flyer I knew what to get Steve for his nineteenth birthday. I never knew that such a simple act would be the reason for so much heart ache. But for now I get ahead of myself. It is the day of Steve's birthday. I wear a light green Marilyn-Monroe-style dress when I go to pick him up (he says the green goes well with my red hair but I think he just likes the view the dipping neckline provides). Rushing to the door of his apartment I knock hard on the wood.

"Ready?" I ask him when he opens the door giving a suggestive wink. His eyes twinkle when he sees me and he pulls me in for a kiss.

"Where are we going?" he asks me taking my hand as we walk to my car.

"If I tell you it would ruin the surprise," I giggle girlishly, something I rarely do but Steve seems to bring that side out of me. Steve rolls his eyes at me but questions me no further until we stop outside a dilapidated theatre in one of the older parts of the city. The streets are empty and the place is dark but according to the tickets this is the right address.

"We must be in the wrong place," I frown looking down to double check. I never even notice that Steve is staring at the place as though a pink elephant was standing in the window. Not until he reaches over and jerks the tickets from my hands abruptly.

"Hey-"I start but he cuts me off with a simple wave and a smile I cannot quite place.

"No we're in the right place," he informs me handing back the tickets.

"You knew all along?" My face falls flat.

"No," He laughs nervously rubbing his neck as he turns once more to look at the building, "I went to one at this place when I was younger."

"Really?" I stare at him trying to decide if he was telling the truth.

"Well do you want to go get a pint instead?" I ask half heartedly, I secretly have been looking forward to this night. He turns to me and I see the same emotion I could not place before flash in his eyes.

"No," he leans in and kisses me on the cheek, "this is perfect." I smile widely, my dark blue eyes lighting up, glad that I please him.

"Then what are we waiting for?" I ask opening my door and getting out of the car, Steve following suit. I take my place at his side and lock fingers as we walk into the dim dank halls of an old theatre. It is colder than I expect and lacking a coat I move closer to Steve. I do not do it just because I am cold; however, I do it because this place gives me the creeps.

"I think we should go back," I say clutching his hand tightly.

"May I help you?" a voice calls from behind me causing me to nearly jump from my skin, however, Steve does not react.

"Hello," I greet as I turn to see the tallest man I have ever seen towering over me. Although I am fairly short compared to most this man is absolutely enormous. He is so tall his head nearly hit the ceiling!

"We seem to be a little lost," I tell him nervously hardly taking notice that Steve has not turned around, "we're here for the show."

"Of course you are Lucille," He smiles at me as I gawp. How did this strange man know my name?

"Um, would you mind helping me find it?" I ask unsure and reverting back to little girl mode, Steve's presence completely forgotten. I had a tendency to do that when I was nervous. Not hard considering I could pass for much younger than my actual age.

"Follow me," He turns and moves so quickly that I do not have much time to react. Momentarily, I turn to Steve only to find him still staring down the darkened hall behind me.

"Come on," I grab his arm jerking him in the direction the strange man went.

"I have to pee," he states flatly taking off down the hall without another word to me. Annoyed, I chase after the tall man rounding the same corner he had just taken. I barely contain my surprise when I see him standing at the end of the hall, wearing a tall red hat and gloves. Where they actually came from I could only guess. As I stepped closer I notice something about him that I seemed to have missed moments ago. Every since I was young I could feel something from every living thing. They felt like vibrations against my skin, everything gave off a vibration. However, this man's vibrations were quick, so quick that it took me focusing on him to actually feel the hum of his against my own vibrations. Though it is strange I feel unthreatened (but by no means at ease!).

"My friend-"I start to tell him as I hold up the tickets but he waves me off gently.

"It is alright," He smiles warmly taking the tickets, "the shows about to start and you won't want to miss it Lucille." I nearly shiver when he uses my name but decide it is best not to ask just _how_ he knew. With one quick motion he pops the tickets into his mouth and chows down on them as if they were candy. I stare at him with surprise before turning my attention to the curtain directly behind me. He holds the curtain back and I step through cautiously, but when I turn to thank him, he is gone, almost like he had vanished into thin air. Shrugging it off (after all I am at a freak show) I strain to find a seat among the dense crowd. Just where had these people been moments ago when I was lost? Ignoring the improbability of the situations I find a couple of seats near the front of the stage. It would not occur to me until much later how unusual this was considering the size of the crowd. The room went black and I wish Steve would hurry up and come back.

"You know it's going to be alright," I sing below a whisper, another nervous habit of mine but it seems to help and I fall silent once more. The center of the ring lights up and in the center stands the tall man. He did his introduction and the show starts. It was all so fascinatingly strange, and in my eyes artistically beautiful in it designs. By the time Steve found me again the first two acts were over.

"Where have you been?" I snap in a harsh whisper, disbelieving that it would take so long to simply relieve himself.

"I had trouble finding you," my instinct believes that he is lying to me but I do not press it. Instead I turn my thoughts and my body away from him and focus on the show. The next act was an enormously wide man who claimed to have two bellies. From his size I did not doubt it. But only after watching him eat a glass, swallow, and piece it back together in his stomach did I see why he was so freakish. I enjoy the madness of it all. I am a scientist at heart, so to slip so far away from reality is quite pleasing to me. Well it was pleasing at the time I should say, not knowing that my perception of reality would soon be altered permanently. Little blue robed figures clear the stage and in the darkness I see them bring out a goat on a chain.

"Why would they need a goat?" I muse aloud to Steve but he is focusing hard upon the stage, extremely hard. I pout a bit when he ignores me but part of me is pleased by his enthrallment in the show. The stage lights up again and a man stands in the middle. He is no more odd than the rest of his companions albeit his paper white skin. My mother is Scandinavian, making my skin extremely white, however this man makes me seem tan by comparison. His hair is orange, a relatively common feature for this part of the world, and he wears a red cape. That's the only thing about him that caught my attention at first, red being my favorite color; I admire the beauty of the simple garment. Otherwise, he was a plain older man with a long scar down his cheek. When he speaks, his voice is deep and dark, clearly played up for effect. He introduces the crowd to his performing spider. Only then do I see the purpose for the goat when the spider creeps across it biting down on the bleating animal's neck. I watch in fascination as the creature shutters, fall over, and breathe its last breath. I had no problem with the sacrifice, I grew up on a farm, slaughtering animals is a way of life when you have to travel two hours to the nearest market. I hope that the slaughter is not without purpose but I do not dwell on it for long. The tall man plays a whistle and the spider creeps up the man's arm. I get a clearer view of the arachnid's purple and green patterns, beautiful but deadly. Spiders have always been good omens in my mind and I could never 

bring myself to kill one when I found it in the house. However, if I saw this one on my wall I would probably try to smash it with the nearest heavy object. Hypnotically, it weaves a web between the lips of the caped crusader as I look on in fascination. When the segment it done, the man takes a bow, and for a moment I swear his eyes flicker up in this direction. Not on me though. His attention was on the man next to me. His attention is on Steve.


	2. Chapter 2: Secrets and Shadows

**Secrets and Shadows**

The show is fascinating but longer than I expected. By the time it ends, it is nearly one in the morning. The crowds stand to leave and so do I but Steve remains in his seat.

"I saw a pub next door," I smile warmly down at him, "want to go get a drink, or maybe something to eat, before we head home?" His eyes are distant though and I feel as though he is seeing right through me as though I were but a ghost. Snapping back into reality he turns to me with one of his classic smiles, instantly erasing my displeasure.

"Why don't you go ahead and get us a table," He glances over at the long line of people crowding to buy merchandise from the freak show.

"I'm going to pick up some souvenirs for the guys," he explains rising to his feet.

"I'll wait with you then," I offer. He tries to play it cool, making it hard to catch the brief flash of annoyance in his face. I do not want to anger Steve. As much as I like him, he is quick to anger and scary when he is.

"No," he shakes his head, "go on ahead. This might take a while and you're in heels. I don't want you to be uncomfortable just because of me." He kisses me on the forehead. Others may have been convinced but I sure as hell was not. I nod slowly but do not question him. His reasons are his own, if he wants to be alone, let him be. I walk away my heels clicking along the way as I watch him separate and take his place at the end of the line. I turn and take one last look at him before exiting the room. Shaking my head at his silly behavior I find my way out and go to the pub next door. It is a dim place but not entirely a hole in the wall. Clean from what I can tell and sparsely populated mostly by the remnants of the crowd still buzzing about the show. I take my seat as a man with blonde hair and an apron approaches my table.

"Hello, what can I get for you love?" He asks me and I cannot help but smile once more.

"A pint would be nice," I tell him picking up a menu from the table.

"Certainly, what kind?" he asks me.

"Surprise me," I say glancing up from the menu with a wink. From the corner of my eye I see him nod and walk away towards the bar. Moments later he brings me a glass of room temperature ale. I smile taking a large gulp from the glass. Time crawls along, my glass empties and so does the bar leaving me impatiently waiting for my boy friend. Fed up, I finally get up ready to curse Steve from here to the end of the universe. Swinging back the door in a fury, I run straight into a large warm mass. The air expels from my lungs and I look up into the face of my long lost boyfriend.

"What the hell Steve!" I raise my voice, quickly drawing in another breath, and shoving my palm into his chest forcefully. I am small and he does not even flinch from my effort.

"What is wrong with you? You've been acting strange all night! If you didn't want to come then you should have said so!" I rant but he just stares at me with a far away expression, a small box tucked away under his arm. He grabs me by the arm with a roughness I have never seen and begins dragging me out of the bar towards my car.

"Where are your keys?" He asks sharply ignoring my resistance as he strides towards the car.

"In my purse," I say quickly trying to pull out of his firm grip, "What is wrong with you?!" He releases me and swipes my purse instead, taking my keys. As angry as I am at him I rush after him as he climbs into the driver's seat. My heel snaps causing me to falls forward catching the car for support. Ripping the passenger's side door open and falling into the seat. As soon as the door shuts, the car is cranked and we are speeding off down the street. My ankle throbs dully and I subconsciously rub it knowing that it will soon swell and turn purple. Steve is intent on his driving.

"What is going-"I start to say.

"Shut up," he snaps at me hatefully thrusting the box in his hand towards me, "put this in the floor board." I do as he says afraid of what he will do if I disobey. I honestly thought that he would hurt me if I tried to do anything right now, so I stayed silent as we drove to my apartment. We pull into the drive way and he parks the car; shutting off the engine with a loud click. The air is thick with the tenseness of the situation.

"I'm sorry," He apologizes softly, "I got into a fight with someone at the cirque. I wanted to get out of there quickly. Are you ok?" I look down, I do not want to forgive him but I am not about to risk upsetting him. Silently, I nod rubbing my ankle.

"I need some ice," I whisper quietly opening the door to the car. I hear him follow my lead as I begin to limp towards the door.

"Here let me help you," He whispers taking my arm causing me to flinch. He walks me inside without another word. As soon as I am in the door I collapse on the couch, and begin tending to my swollen ankle. It is not too bad and I know that after some ice and rest it will be good as new. Steve gets the ice for me and kneels down in front of me removing my broken shoe and wrapping it gently in the ice pack. My heart melts as he takes care of me and I can no longer muster the energy to fight about how he treated me. Weak I know, but I cannot help it. For now at least.

"I'm sorry," he whispers again, shame in his voice.

"It's alright," I mutter, "I just want to go to bed. My brother is coming in the morning with my nephew." I pull myself up with Steve's help and he eases me to my bed room. Setting me gently on to my bed, I remove my other shoe.

"I should stay to make sure you're alright," it sounds like a question at first but I know that it is not. I nod and he climbs into bed on the other side. I lay back and Steve curls up next to me, warming me. I close 

my eyes but my mind lingers on the night's event refusing to accept that Steve was telling me the truth. Eventually, I fall into a fitful sleep still mulling the night over.


	3. Chapter 3: Precarious Little Secrets

**Precarious Little Secrets**

I dreamt of the night of my father's funeral. Flashing back to when I was ten years old again and seeing the pine box. Had not dreamt about it in five years but it came back tonight. I do not know what would make me remember such an unpleasant memory but I recalled the day down to the last detail. The way the coarse fabric of my sister's hand me down dress rubbed harshly against my skin. The smell of salt and flowers permeating the air wafting into my nose. But in my dream the memory is warped because when I step close enough to see inside the box it is me in the casket.

"Lucy," a voice stirs me from my restless sleep. I turn away from the annoying voice and dip under the covers. It's cold in my house and I am not ready to get up.

"Little Lucy," the person coos as the jerk back the covers exposing me to the cool air. My eyes shoot open in surprise but immediately snap shut with the brightness of the sun flowing through the window. I groan as I roll over burying my face into the pillow as I wake up.

"What the hell?" I groan into the pillow giving a mild shiver; Killian stand over me falling over in laughter. He is my oldest brother and, currently, is a real pain in the back side.

"You're an ass," I groan lifting my head up slowly from the pillow and shaking my thick hair from my eyes. Rolling over carefully, I stare up at the ceiling readjusting to the world. I glance down at my ankle and see that the swelling has gone down quite a bit. I guess after busting up your body enough it learns how to repair the damage a bit more efficiently. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, my feet touch the prickly fiber of the carpet. I can tell I have been sweating heavily in my sleep by the way I smell, but I can always shower later. I have been through enough nights of partying, so my tolerance to not bathing is relatively high for a girl. That is not to say I do not enjoy a good shower though!

"Have a fun night?" He asks winking at me. I look down and see that I am still in the green dress from last night. There is a small scrape on my left leg and a small bruise. I must have hit something when Steve dragged me towards the car last night.

"You certainly smell like you did," He says pulling me in for a hug. I wrap my arms about my arms about my burly dark haired brother. He is well over six feet tall, dwarfing my five foot four frame with ease. His face is scruffy and tickles my cheek as he squeezes me tight. He pulls away and I look at him queerly.

"How did you get in?" I ignore his previous question, rising to my feet with mild discomfort. I keep my face clear of pain; however, I do not want Killian asking any questions.

"Steve," he jerks his finger towards the front of my apartment, giving me another suggestive wink. I frown at his suggestion. After what Steve pulled last night he is lucky that I did not strangle him in his sleep.

"No," I say walking away with a faint limp towards the kitchen to make breakfast. Killian follows behind me, and I can feel his eyes inspecting my suspicious posture.

"What happened?" he asks. I inwardly cringe at the question. If I tell my brother, Steve might just meet his end rather soon.

"Nothing," I answer flatly, "I lost my footing last night." We reach the living room and I see Steve sitting on the couch with my eldest nephew. I know he does not buy my lie for an instant. After nine years of dance lessons it was rare that I lost my balance in heels, and Killian knew. But if he wishes to say something, he holds his tongue questioning me no further. My attention shifts to the small dark haired boy sitting next to my boyfriend.

"Hello Brennan," I smile at the six year old. His head snaps in my direction and the little one springs off the couch in my direction.

"Lucy!" He yells happily running towards me. I lean down and catch the boy in my arms as he runs full force into me.

"Oomph," I grunt, nearly stumble back from the force of his hug. He beams at me as I hold him in my arms, seemingly pleased with the damage.

"Are you hungry?" I ask smiling, and limping toward the kitchen with him in my hands. He nods his head fiercely. Steve does not say a word to me as I pass, and I do not bother to say anything to him either. I may have forgiven him but I am not done being angry. He hurt me last night and apparently for a very poor reason. I have always felt that deep down Steve was that kind of a person; though I had yet to have my suspicions proven right until last night. When we enter the kitchen I open the fridge and pull out eggs, sausage, and the other necessary materials needed for a full morning meal.

"You do realize it is two in the afternoon," Killian say rounding the corner into the kitchen, and giving me a pat on the head. I glance up to see him smirking down on me. My entire family is tall except for me. They make fun of me for being so short. I hate it.

"So," I dismiss, "I just woke up so it is breakfast to me." I crack eggs and put them into a bowl, handing Brennan a fork to beat them with. Glancing back to Killian I stick out my tongue childishly.

"Are you going to want some?" I ask with a smirk, knowing the answer.

"Of course," he beams, "call me when it is done." Knotting my hair up in a quick bun, and quickly washing my hands I set about mixing the ingredient for biscuits. Happily I cook for us. I love to cook. I always have loved the praise and pleasure that came with cooking a satisfying meal. I pan the biscuits, and pop them in the oven when I realize that I am still wearing my dress. I pause debating whether or not I should change, but in the end decide that it would probably be for the best. At least I would look slightly neater.

"I need to go change, hun, before we start frying," I tell Brennan walking off towards my bed room. I shut the door and untie the neck of my dress when Steve bursts in holding the box from the previous night.

"I'm trying to change," I say going through my closet for something to wear. He closes the door with a soft click. His face is anxious and slightly annoyed by me. Let him be annoyed. He treats me like dirt one night and then acts as if everything is all better the next day. I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks the more I think about it. Things do not work this way and he needs to learn that this shit will not fly with me.

"I need to show you something," he is nearly bursting at the seams as he takes a seat on my bed watching me pick my clothes. I keep my back to him silently rustling through my closet. I can feel the inpatients in his vibrations rise as they hum more forcefully than usual. People were like that, they vibrate a slightly different way depending on their emotion. I usually cannot feel it unless I focus, but I have spent a lot of time with Steve so his are clear as day.

"I don't care," I say deciding on a plain black skirt and a red tank top. Turning towards the bathroom without another word I shut the door more harshly than I intended to. I know Steve is upset but I could not care less. I strip myself and wash my face. In the other room I hear someone come in and Steve is talking to them. Not paying much attention I do not bother to eavesdrop on the conversation. I pull on the skirt and the shirt before brushing my mid-back ginger locks into a neat pony tail. I feel better now that I have put myself together a little more. Turning around with a sigh I prepare to go out and face Steve. I feel somewhat calmer now. I turn the light out and open the door to see Steve talking to Brennan. But they are doing more than talking; however, Steve has opened the box to allow my nephew to peer inside. Somehow the situation feels wrong. The box seems too familiar.

"What are you guys doing?" I ask stepping closer to see what is so interesting, my concern growing without conscious reason. Brennan's attention turns to me for a split second, but that was all she needs. A large black spider leaps from the box and onto my nephew's arm, sinking its fangs deep within his arm. Brennan opens his mouth to scream but instead he falls to the floor paralyzed. I want to scream, and smash the spider to bits. But my instinct kicks in, and I run to the kitchen frantically, my mind frantically processing what is happening. I tare open the drawers and fumble through the knives looking for the sharpest one, my fingers getting nicked along the way. It takes me a drawn out second to find the correct blade but before I know it I am racing towards the bed room again.

"What's wrong," Killian jumps from the couch as I run past him again, holding a razor sharp knife in one hand.

"Brennan," I cry running back to the bed room. He is lying on the floor not moving, barely breathing; I take my nephews arm and quickly slice an x over the bites in his arm. I do not even know if it will work but it is better than nothing. I had to do this once before when my brother Rogan was bit by a snake, the same principle should apply here. I lower my lips to the wound and begin to suck furiously, pulling blood and poison out by the mouthful.

"Oh my god!" Killian screams as he rushes into the room. I do not stop my sole focus on getting the poison out of Brennan's limp, pale body. I hear my brother rush to the phone and from what I make out he is calling an ambulance. I spit on the floor unconcerned about the dark red stains forming on the carpet. Not that much lands on the floor. Most of the soured blood dribbles down my chin landing on 

my clothing. I lost track of time but the next thing I know I am being pulled away by the paramedics. I watch as they intubate and move him onto a stretcher. My brother goes with them, climbing into the ambulance to ride to the hospital. I rush back into the house to grab my keys from the hook when I see Steve standing there, in shock, just staring at me. I feel my anger breaking free as I walk strait up to him and punch him in the jaw. He stumbles back and I turn away climbing into my car and race towards the hospital.

An hour passes as we wait outside in the lobby. My sister in law sobs, while my brother holds her tightly in his arms. I sit numbly staring down at the blood stains on my clothing. I had washed my hands and face but the fabric holds the stains better. They have turned an ugly dark brown. The doctor comes out and says something quietly to my brother and his wife. From the way her body quakes with fresh tears I know it is not good. My brother's eyes are brimming with tears, when he walks up to me.

"They say they have never seen this kind of a spider bite," he cries more freely now. I put my arms around him and lay my head on his chest.

"There is no anti-venom," He shutters, "they give him another day at the most." Killian walks away without another word leaving me standing in shock. My stomach feels hollow with guilt but at the same time I want to heave. I feel as though the whole world is crashing down around me and there is nothing I can do. Tears slip from my eyes. But then, I remember, I remember just where I had seen that spider. At first I thought it was impossible. Steve could not possibly be that stupid could he? The more I think about it, the more I contemplate his strange behavior, the more the truth becomes apparent. I feel thick hot poisonous anger flow through my veins. My fist clench and without a word I sprint to my car; cranking the engine I speed towards my house. I must have broken at least a dozen laws in the process but when I get there I fly out of the car without bothering to turn the engine off. I burst through the door to see Steve sitting on the couch, staring back at me, still frozen.

"Where is she Steve!?" I scream at him, he jolts back to reality.

"What?" He asks in confusion. My blood boils as I step closer to him threateningly.

"DO NOT FUCK WITH ME," I stand over him now, "Where is the spider you stole from the freak show!?" He pulls back and I see a small wave of fear ripple through his face. He raises a finger and points to the bedroom without speaking to me. I storm back to the bedroom to find a small familiar black box sitting on my bed, without thought I take it. I find myself rushing towards the door for the second time today.

"Where are you going?!" Steve yells after me, standing in my way.

"Where do you think I'm going?" I grunt brushing past me but he grabs me rather roughly and twirls me around.

"You can't," He growls. I stare up at him, fury burning in my eyes.

"To hell with you Steve," I shout in his face trying to shake his grip but he overpowers me.

"Listen to me," He states flatly, "he is a vampire." I seethe at his childishness. I shove my weight into him sending him stumbling back a few feet.

"Stop your foolishness! Vampires don't exist, Steve, they never have, and they never will. You stole that spider because you are a childish selfish little brat who thinks nothing of those he hurts. You should be the one dying in the hospital, not Brennan!" I am out of breath by the time I finish my rant. Without giving him a chance to reply, I am in the car speeding back towards the Cirque Du Freak.


	4. Chapter 4: The Blood is Love

**The Blood is Love**

The sun sinks below the horizon as I pull up outside the theatre, parking my car in the abandoned lot. The broken marquis seems to tower over the entrance way threateningly. It seems darker and even more intimidating than before but I am running on pure adrenaline. I ignore my flight instinct and turn off the car. My stomach churns with apprehension, and if I had anything to eat that day I would have long since expelled it. I want to sing but I cannot even bring myself to form the words of any tune. Maybe I would have felt better if I could, but the lyrics would just not form.

"Quit being stupid," I manage to mutter to myself climbing out of the car, small black box in hand. Madam Octa seems to know that is happening, because I hear her scuttle excitedly inside her cage. Swiftly I stride towards the theatre, eyes cast down, afraid of what I might see if I look around. I do not even know why I feel this way, I have no real reason to be afraid, but still, apprehension nags at my brain like a pestering child. The last showing of the cirque was supposed to be last night, but something told me that I would still find what I needed here. I would like to think it has something to do with destiny, but my absence of faith scoffs at such a foolish thought. Perhaps if I had just taken a leap of faith in the first place, I would not be here. When I get to the door, my hand curls around the handle. Splinters prick at my already damaged fingers. I almost flee, but images of my broken nephew flash before my eyes and my resolve hardens. Forcefully, I yank back the doors sending a plume of dust and cold dank air rushing towards me. Stumbling back I burst into a coughing fit but soon it is suppressed and I am ready to continue. Right now I feel as though Virgil will pop out at any moment, ready to lead the imprudent mortal through all the terrible layers of hell. I shiver as I enter and step down the same hall as the night before, only this time there is no one to hold on to. I retrace the path that I saw Steve go down; knowing that what I need must be in this direction. Stumbling blindly through the halls I grope my way around. I am helpless and vulnerable without vision, but when I feel a gap in the wall, and a breeze slightly warmer than the air around me wafting up from the passage, I know I am in the right place. Descending into the pits of hell I feel my way down a few stairs. I begin to see light now, and I move a bit quicker, eager to be able to see once again. My mind goes wild with images of raging hell fire at the bottom, but when I clear the last stair only five tall candles surround the room. Why a person would ever choose to bunk down here, I could only imagine.

"Good morning Miss O'Grady," I hear the deep voice of a man call from the dark and I know immediately who it is. Ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of my brain, I turn to him. My mouth is dry; I realize that no one but Steve knows where I am at. I am completely left to his mercy. I try to distract myself by dissecting the man if front of me. Upon closer inspection he is not a handsome man. In fact, he is older and time has taken its toll on his flesh. I recognize details from the night before; orange hair, long twisting facial scar, paper white skin, and infamous red clothing. His attention is not on me though; it is on a deck of cards laid on a table in a game setting I cannot make out. I shift uncomfortably taking note of every minuscule wrinkle on his face to distract myself from the precariousness of the situation.

"The sun set just a little while ago," I blurt out, uneasily tying to break the lingering silence. I know better than to question just how anyone here knows my name. At this point I do not really care. What 

worries me is that, like Mr. Tall, this man has strange vibrations. He turns and grins with a sharp toothed smirk.

"To me that is morning," he answers. My face falls at his answer, and I cannot help but roll my eyes. I have been afraid because I thought this man could be dangerous, but a dangerous human only. I relax a hair, realizing that he is just another lonely wack-a-doo who has decided to live out the fantasy of vampirism.

"Great," I mumble under my breath, "you're as crazy as Steve is."

"That's very rude of you to say," he chides. I had been quiet and I thought he had been sitting too far away to hear me. Had he really heard me say that? Or had he simply heard my muffled voice and assumed I was being rude?

"Here," I thrust the little box forward and I hear the spider slide with my force, "I brought this back to you." Let him do what he wants, it makes no difference to me whether or not he spends his time hiding from the sun in dank cellars. If it makes him happy he can do whatever he wants. I am here for Brennan, not to lecture a crazy old man on life.

"Out of the kindness of your heart I am sure," he says mockingly, "or is there another reason you've come. Is that why Steve is not here? Has Madam Octa already punished that insolent little pest?" I swallow hard as he shifts his body towards me, this man scares me and I find myself unable to form words. From my expression he assumes he is right. My throat constricts itself without me realizing it. My rational mind screams at me for acting so idiotic but an instinct deep down holds me back. Something I have long repressed emerges with vengeance to control my actions and I stand dumfounded, silently arguing with my two halves if front of him. He seems to recognize my attention has shifted inward and I can hear him give a brief quip of laughter.

"Good riddens if I do say so myself," he says, "That evil little monster turned out to be just as much an annoyance as he was years ago."

"I need your help," I manage to choke out, stomping down my gut feeling viciously. He snaps his fingers and the cards on the table jump together into a pile. My eyes widen in surprise and my mind begins to search for a logical explanation. This man works for a freak show, I rationalize, and he must know at least a few parlor tricks. The instinct tells me this is not the case but I stubbornly refuse to listen.

"I'm sure Steve has told you what I am," He says flashing another toothy grin. I frown, my fear forgotten for a moment by the challenge to my reality.

"Vampires are not real they are only humans with rare blood diseases, like porphyria, who are mistaken for vampires," I reply. I have heard enough vampire rants from Steve.

"You are indeed a clever one aren't you? However, your heartbeat is saying otherwise" He says and in a blink of an eye he is in front of me. I stagger back in shock.

"How the hell did you do that?" I gasp afraid of what the answer might be. My head reels in shock. Even I cannot rationalize how he pulled that one off. Even if it was a trick, I could not conceive a way for him to move as quickly as he did. Not to mention, how the hell could he hear my heartbeat?!

"You already know the answer to that Miss O'Grady," He says his lips still twisted into a smirk. I tremble a bit, my reality crumbling around me. I do not want to anger him but I cannot leave empty handed, not when someone else's life depends on it.

"I don't care what you are," I try to be brave but my voice cracks, "Your spider has bitten my nephew not Steve." I spit the last part of the sentence as if his name were as poisonous as Madam Octa's venom.

"A nasty business indeed, still, I fail to see how this concerns me," He still towers over me causing me to want to run. I swear he has grown at least a foot in the last second. I stand my ground, remembering this is all for Brennan.

"You must have the cure," I accuse hotly; "I need it!"

""Madam Octa's bite is deadly, but for every poison there exists an antidote. Maybe I do have the cure. Maybe I have a bottle of serum that will restore your nephew's natural physical functions." He says carefully. I feel my heart leap within my chest.

"I knew it," I say. I did not even stop to think past that. There is a cure. Brennan will be fine.

"Maybe it is a small bottle. Maybe there is only a tiny amount of serum. Maybe it is very precious. Maybe I want to save it for a real emergency, in case Madam Octa ever bites me. Maybe I do not want to waste it on some little human brat." He says. I feel the fire in me die as tears threaten to fall once more. I would offer him money but I doubt a vampire has a need for such a thing. In truth, I have nothing to offer, but I am stubborn. There is a way out of any situation, and surely I will worm my way out of this one. I lower my head, hoping to appeal to any sympathy he might possess.

"Please, Brennan is only six," I whimper my voice low, trying my best to slip into scared little girl mode. Not that it was all too hard.

"So?" He dismisses, "Children dying in my time were a part of life. It was not uncommon for a family to lose three or four children." I choke back tears bitterly seeing that he is not as easily swayed by a desperate pleading girl as every other man I know.

"I'll do anything." With those words I swear I feel a strange crackle of energy run from the room. His cruel, sadistic smile widens a fraction of an inch as if those were the words he was waiting to hear. This time I know that I have I have done something gravely dangerous. Something I will not be able to back out of or ever take back. Words are tricky like that aren't they?

"Well when you put it that way," he strokes his long hideous scar, "There is something that you could offer me."

"What do you want?" I demand sharply, preparing for him to make me his next meal. I hate the thought of bleeding to death, but if it means saving my brother's son…

"I was hoping Steve would be the one to come, so I could put an end to him myself, but when you came I was pleasantly surprise," He explains to me like a small child. If he is surprised by my arrival he sure as hell did have an odd way of showing it.

"I thought to myself, Larten this girl is a lioness, she faces down what she knows, deep down, could be her own death to save someone else's life," He continues to muse, and if not for the current situation I would find the complement flattering. I wonder what he is getting at.

"That kind of loyalty and courage is a rare trait these days," He snaps from his daze, eyes boring into me. I do not even want to hear the next words to come out of his mouth.

"I want you to become my assistant," He says simply. I feel the air escape from my lungs forcefully. My world is collapsing around me and I am powerless to stop it. My head spins and, for a moment, I feel as though I am going to faint.

"What," I ask breathily.

"Do not be coy, girl," he snaps, done toying with me.

"You want me to become…one of you?" I ask in disbelief, not entirely accepting that he is really one of the living dead. However it is painfully clear that I am wrong, vampires exist, and this one wants me.

"Eventually, you would only be half at first, you would have some powers, but not all, and you will still be able to walk in the sun." He explains, ""You will be my traveling companion. You will travel with me across the world. You will be my eyes and hands during the day. You will guard me while I sleep. You will find food for me if it is scarce. You will take my clothes to the laundry. You will polish my shoes. You will

look after Madam Octa. In short, you will see to my every need. In return, I will teach you the ways of the vampires."

"Vampires," I whisper in disbelief but I could see no way of getting around his demand.

"Is there no other way?" I ask in vain, hoping he will give me another option, one that does not involve me turning in to an apparently not-so-mythical creature. I cast my gaze to the floor, refusing to meet the ginger vampire's gaze.

"No," he says sharply, "Join me or Brennan dies, if he has not already." My head shoots up with the mention of my fallen nephew's name and all doubt leaves my mind.

"Fine," I growl, "what do I need to do?"


	5. Chapter 5: Suture Up Your Future

_(A/N: Ok sorry I lied, but I eventually got around to writing the next chapter. Thank you for reviewing Lefi123)_

**Suture Up Your Future**

When I was six years old, I had to have a blood transfusion. The first of a few across my relatively short span of life. I have (I guess had now) severe anemia and the doctors told my parents I could die unless I received the transfusion. I did not want it; I screamed and begged my parents not to do this to me. I was young, however, and parents definitely do not listen to children that young. It meant saving my life. But even then, part of me knew what would happen. It took three nurses to strap me down on a board before they could get the needle in. I remember crying for months afterwards because no matter what I did I could still feel the donor's presence in my body. They were constantly with me battling for dominance. Taunting me. The sheer amount in my small body was almost too much to handle. I did not shake their vibrations until months later. Now, watching Mr. Crepsley step towards me preparing to make me a vampire I wonder how long I will be able to feel him inside me.

"How does this work," I ask watching him press the nails of his right hand into the fleshy tips of his left hand. Although they did not seem that sharp they easily sliced open his skin. He repeats the process with his other hand before turning back to me. It seems very odd to me. Don't vampires usually bite people or something?

"Give me your hands," he demands motioning for me to raise them up. I am more hesitant than ever to comply.

"Why?" I ask instinctively shrinking away. His annoyance boils over and he reaches over pulling my hands up level with his. Fluidly he pushes his nails into the pads of my skinny, pale fingers. I hiss in pain and flinch away.

"Quit being a child," he grunts again taking my hand roughly. Waves of pain radiate away from my sensitive fingers.

"It hurts," I complain lowly.

"You came all this way on that ankle and you are complaining about a few cuts?" He points out causing my attention to shift back to my swollen ankle. In all the commotion I had completely forgotten about it. It never failed to amaze me how the human body could block out pain when it runs on adrenaline. But slowly I know the adrenaline is ebbing away. I feel warm moisture enclose the tips of my fingers. There is a gentle sucking sensation as Mr. Crepsley draws the blood from my body into his mouth. I shiver from the sensation, it is odd and uncomfortable. Releasing my fingers he rolls the blood across his tongue as if sampling fine wine.

"The blood is good," He announces sounding mildly pleased, "We may proceed." He takes my hands once more and brings them up, pressing his own finger tips against my own, wound to wound. I freeze, wondering what on earth this is supposed to accomplish. I begin to speak, but before I can get the words out my arm starts to tingle on the left side. There is a rushing sensation as my blood begins flowing out of my right hand and his blood flows into me on the left. It tingles and burns a bit but is not entirely uncomfortable. Ever so slowly it creeps along infusing me. I can tell where his blood is by the enteric hum of his vibrations in my veins. I can feel his blood battling with my own. Slowly, his presence creeps though my arm towards my shoulder, branching out from the largest vein to the smallest capillary to fill my body. Beads of sweat form on my brow as he gets closer to my heart. I close my eyes. The blood hits my heart and I nearly fall to my knees. The pain is sharp and stabbing, what I would imagine a heart attack to be like. I want to pull away but when I open my eyes again I see that Mr. Crepsley is wincing and sweating as well. At least I could extract some small satisfaction from that. Planting myself firmly I remain still, refusing to shrink away half way through the process. More afraid of what would happen if I tried to pull way now. The pain stays with me as his blood creeps down through every inch of my being and across to once more exit back into him. We stay connected for a few minutes more before he pulls away with a yelp. I slide backwards clutching my bleeding fingers to my chest, gasping for air. I did not even realize I had stopped breathing. My lungs are stiff and every breath of air over expands my lungs. I concentrate on calming my breathing while keeping my eyes on the vampire. He licks the tips of his fingers. I watch the blood flow slow and eventually stop as the wounds close. Slowly, the heavy involuntary breathing slows into an almost normal pattern as the vampire waits for me to calm down.

"Give me your fingers. My spit heals wounds, if not you will bleed to death," He says and cautiously I comply. It is a gross, highly unsanitary concept, but I do not want to bleed to death. (As you well know by now, I am averse to bleeding to death!) I give my vocal cords a clearing test as he steps closer.

"Vampires can bleed to death?" I ask as he runs his rough tongue over my fingers. When I get them back the wounds have closed and ten tiny scars remained. I frown; I hate scars, my body never scarred before. Stupid vampire.

"Yes," He says flatly.

"I thought vampires are immortal," I say naively causing him to laugh.

"You do not honestly believe all the myths humans make up about us do you?" He is amused by my ignorance. I hate when people treat me like that. So what, I do not know anything about vampires.

"Dude, I didn't even believe vampires exist until tonight," I defend. Yeah, I am ignorant but come on; I thought it was all myth. How am I expected to separate myth from reality now?

"Please find a better vocabulary choice than 'dude'," he scolds causing my eyes to narrow in defiance.

"Whatever dude," I challenge. I am not about to be told how to speak. It is bad enough I have just been dehumanized but to try and change my way of speaking is not what I agreed to.

"Let me remind you I have yet to cure your nephew," with those words I immediately step down. I am not coming this far just to lose it all over one word. It is a battle best left for another day. He turns around with a swirl of his cloak and starts up the stairs wordlessly. Rushing behind him I follow him through the dark, afraid that I might not find my way back if I did not stay close. I notice that I can see better in the dark than I could coming in. That could, however, be attributed to my eyes adjusting to the dark and not my new found vampire genetics. We reach the main door far quicker than I had found the basement and step out into the cool night air.

"My car is over there," I tell him quietly as he turns in the complete opposite direction of the parking lot.

"Climb on my back," He instructs ignoring me. He seems to be awfully good at that.

"What?" I ask confused by the demand.

"Now," he sounds more forceful this time, so I do as he says jumping onto his back and wrapping my legs around his waist; my arms around his neck. Geez, this guy is pushy. Just what have I gotten myself into here?

"Do not let go or make any sudden movements," that is the only warning I get before he starts to jog down the sidewalk, slowly picking up speed. I am amazed by how fast he can run with my added weight. I wonder why we did not take my car but before I can fully form the thought, the world around us begins to slip by in an enormous motion blur. My eyes shoot down to his feet, they do not seem to be moving any faster than before but some how the world around us is speeding by. I shut my eyes, afraid of the passing world and what might happen if I were to fall off. In a few minutes he stops and we are outside the hospital. I sigh in relief.

"How did you move so fast," I ask slipping off his back, thankful to be on solid ground once more.

"Speed is relative," Is his only answer, much to my annoyance.

"Relative to what?" I ask but he ignores me. This whole ignoring me thing, really starts to grate my last nerve, but I cannot risk him canceling on our deal. I keep quiet. I'll let him slide for now; I need him for the time being.

"What room is your nephew in?" He slips back into the shadows and I follow suite.

"I don't know," I shrug, "He was in the ICU before I left. I work here, so I can get us in." He nods and follows me as I stride towards the double doors leading to the front reception desk of the hospital. I know this hospital like the back of my hand. I did my internship here in secondary school and now I work in the lab towards the center of the building. I love my job, and a wave of sadness washes over me when I realize how unlikely it is I will ever see this place again. A coworker of mine sits at the desk, and gives me a weak sympathetic smile. No doubt word of my nephew's mishap has reached all the way through the hospital's staff. I slip on the mask of concerned aunt. I seem to have stock piled many of these masks as of lately.

"Hey Kay," I greet her, "What room is Brennan in?"

"Visiting hours have ended Lucy, I'm sorry, but you know the rules," Kay explains trying her best to sound firm. I know her too well.

"Please," I plead quietly allowing the tears to drop knowing that it will melt her. The woman's does exactly as I expect and relents. Turning to her computer she rapidly types in his name.

"He's in room 436, I can give you fifteen minutes."

"Thank you so much," I gush falsely, turning away instantly and rushing for the elevator, Mr. Crepsley close behind.

"Is that your only way of getting things?" the old vampire grumbles as soon as the door closes.

"No I have others, but most people are more prone to relenting to a crying female," I defend, "besides looking like you're thirteen years old help the illusion." In truth, my short, deathly thin frame and small bust did make me seem far younger than I actually am. We reached the forth floor fairly quickly, and the doors spread open revealing the intensive care ward. Quietly we made are way to Brennan's room. I close the door quietly enclosing us inside the small room. Pulling the curtains around the bed, Mr. Crepsley stands over Brennan inspecting his condition. First he checks the wound examining the deep gash. It is swollen and ugly, necrotic on the edges of the incision.

"What happened here?" He asks seeing the purple and black radiating from the wound he knew this is where the spider had attacked.

"I tried to suck out as much of the poison as I could while we were waiting for the ambulance," I confess stepping to the other side of Brennan quietly. I push the hair away from his forehead. A tube juts from his mouth and a machine breathes for him steadily. There are several wires running from his chest. He looks so helpless.

"Probably the reason he has made it this long," Mr. Crepsley pulls up his eyes lids and checks the boy's pulse.

"Good thing you came to me so soon," He says pulling the boys head up and exposing his neck. I give an inward cringe at how close he had come to death.

"Hold him," I do as he says gently holding his head in the instructed position. Mr. Crepsley uses the pinky nail of those insanely sharp nails and makes a small incision across the little boy's neck.

"Got to be careful, the cure is almost as deadly as the poison." He replaces the finger, holding the cut shut, while carefully opening a small vial with the other hand. Tilting the bottle up to his lips he pulls some of the serum into his mouth. I hold my breath afraid to make any noise or movement. Mr. Crepsley leans down and places his mouth on the cut, puffing his cheeks out, and then blowing the anti-venom into Brennan's body. Turning quickly he spit on the floor with a disgusted look. But then the old vampire turns right back to Brennan and dribbles some of his saliva over the cut. It heals up nicely with an almost hairline scar. I smile and let my breath out in a relieved sigh. I smile down at the body, but all too soon his body starts to quiver.

"What's happening to him?" I ask holding down Brennan's shoulders while the seizure takes hold. The little boy opens his eyes and stares right at me, his eyes are unfocused and confused.

"Brennan?" I ask hoping for him to respond, only to have his seize one final time, and go limp. My breath catches in my throat.

"Relax," Mr. Crepsley sidles to my side, "He was near death the journey back will not be a pleasant one." I check the heart monitor for conformation, and although his pulse is too low, it is strong and steady.

"He'll be OK though right?" I ask standing up and turning around, face to, well, chest in my case.

"He'll catch colds easily but will make a full recovery by tomorrow afternoon," He says turning to the door, "come, we need to leave." I turn back to Brennan one last time, memorizing the details of his face, everything I could before I am forced to leave. I lean down and kiss the boy's forehead. When I turn around, I slip into the stone faced mask I need right now. I follow Mr. Crepsley to the elevator. The doors shut, entombing us in silence.

"Thank you," I whisper, despite everything the man did still save Brennan's life. I glance up for a split second when he does not say anything. He stares forward not even acknowledging that I spoke. I feel a flare of anger shoot through me, but the doors open leaving me no time to jump him about it. So, once more, we began walking in silence towards the hospital doors.

"Bye Luce," Kay shouts after me as we pass her desk, "see you in the morning?" I give a weak smile and nod over my shoulder. I wave to her as we exit the automatic doors. This is the last time I will ever set foot in my hospital again. This is the last time I would see any of my family. I feel hollow and alone. I cannot fight it however. The pain is great but I have a weak will. I am too rational, and a survivalist. There will be no explaining away the effects of his blood if I were to run now. What if I became a danger to them? No, it was better to sever now than let them watch me slowly turn into an animal. I only hope they can make peace with my disappearance but life will carry on. I will be forgotten. Mr. Crepsley starts toward the shadowy area from earlier. I watch him dismally. He seems no happier than I do. Is that the fate of vampires, to be eternally depressed for all of their unnaturally long lives? Just what have I gotten myself into? A car screeches out of one side of the building down the street we stood to cross. I stayed on the side with Mr. Crepsley waiting for the reckless driver to pass. While I am busy with my own mini pity party, not even aware of the world around me, the wild driver throws on its brakes in front of us and two black figures spring from the car. One of the figures blankets me and the vampire with some horrible, eye burning spray. I scream from the pain as my eyes swell and well with tears. I start to collapse to the ground but strong arms grip me from behind. I immediately struggle as hard as I could against the attacker. I flail my arms out blindly wishing that I could see who I am fighting. The other person is much bigger than me and his grip is strong.

"Jeez calm down," I cannot identify the voice of whoever it is, so I continue to fight. I have no idea what is going on, nor what happened to Mr. Crepsley. In my panic I sense another set of vibrations approach me. Then a sharp jab into my thigh and my senses dull. My body becomes limp, and I become unable to support myself, falling into my attacker's arms.

"Put her in the car," are the last words I hear. Then darkness.


	6. Chapter 6: Lay Down Your Arms, Girl

_(A/n: Thanks for reviewing marium and Curlys gal)_

**Lay Down Your Arms, Girl**

My eyes flutter open. My lids are crusty and swollen. I open my eyes to blurry dim light. No sense of time. Giving my limbs an experimental stretch, I find my muscles stiff and sore. I note, however, that I am in no way restrained. In fact, I have been tucked into a bed neatly. I push back the covers and throw my feet over the side of the bed. Rubbing my eyes hard, I desperately try to clear my vision but to little reward. My scull feels packed with cotton and I find it hard to keep conscious. I put my head back down on the bed trying to steady the spinning room. My pulse throbs in time with my head, or maybe it's the other way around, too groggy to care about semantics. Stomach churning and growling, I struggle to keep the bile in my stomach from rising. Silently I try to regain my senses rolling around awkwardly into a more comfortable position. I feel as though I have been binge drinking for the past few hours. Just what had I missed during my time out? I think back, my memories are splotchy but I can remember the most of what happened. I feebly run my hand over a small knot in my thigh where I had felt the pain earlier. Suddenly the bedroom door is screeching open like nails on a chalkboard, alerting me to another's presence. I lay still, hoping whoever it is goes away and I can find a way to escape. Even though they are trying to be quiet their movement they sound like stomping rhino as the tip toe to the bedside. I prepare for the worst, bracing myself for abuse. My mind is racing with possibilities and it takes all my effort just to steady my breathing. But they do something unexpected, whoever it is begins to pull the covers over my shivering body .A hand brushes my shoulder causing an involuntarily flinch. Damn it.

"Lucy?" I hear them ask faintly, instantly I recognize the voice, instantly I fill with anger and confusion.

"Steve," I growl hoarsely, blood shot cobalt eyes snapping back open with much protest.

"You're awake," he sounds surprised. Struggling, I sit up and drag myself to rest against the headboard. My stomach gives a small heave but I keep it down.

"What have you done to me?" I seethe, filling set to nod off again. I do not understand why I feel so sick. My faith in his motives is gone. I am going to rip his throat out, just as soon as the room stops spinning.

"I'm sorry, the mace was an accident, but you were freaking out so bad that I had to use tranquilizer," Steve explains as if it is the most rational thing in the world and not like he had just kid knapped me. Men!

"But you ended up taking to it too well, you have been out for three days," He finishes sounding like more like he thought I woke up too soon.

"Let me get this straight," I huff, "you maced and tranquilized me?!" I blink furiously wishing to clear my eyes and it does help. I clench my fists and try to calm down. I am currently unsteady and Steve could probably whip my ass on a good day. His expression is blank, as if he is struggling to figure out why I am upset. I shake my head in disbelief but do nothing more to incite any anger. Steve does not seem mad but I can tell there is something unsettled deep inside by the hazy feel of his vibrations. They seem to tell me that I could very easily upset him, or maybe that's just past experience. Lowering my head, we sit in awkward silence for a few minutes, trying to think of away to fill the void.

"Could you at least help me clean up," I sigh, figuring that there is nothing I can do at the moment. Such is life. He nods stepping over and helping me up on to his shoulder.

"Where the hell are we Steve?" I ask being half drug into a nearby bathroom in the hall. I am still blind for the most part, but from what I can make out various vague shapes fire my memory.

"At my apartment," He says nonchalantly, causing me to frown.

"So I assume Darren is the only one who would have helped you do this," Darren is Steve's best friend and his room mate. I could remember there had been two figures that jumped out and there was one driving the car. Steve's eyes have lit up. I can tell he takes pride in the fact that he could talk him into almost anything (But then again Steve is _very_ persuasive).

"Of course," He confirms switching on the bathroom light. I hiss as the searing, blinding light hits my eyes. I snap them shut until I can adjust. I grab on to the counter and support my own weight.

"Who drove the car?" I ask struggling to steady my self.

"Anne," he says as if I should know who he is talking about. I turn my gaze in his general direction hoping to convey my message.

"Darren's sister," He fills in. I nod and put my head back down.

"Leave," I demand, and Steve obeys. He shuts the door as he exits. Blindly I turn on the water and cautiously clean my eyes. The moisture does wonders and when I dry my eyes I can see almost normally. I catch my reflection and shake my head at the sorry sight; hair a mess, skin so white I look blue, eyes bloodshot and puffy, and still wearing my blood stained outfit from three days ago. Slowly, I pull the clothes from my body. It takes me a while to finally strip to nothing. I have trouble controlling my muscles the entire time. With legs as steady as a newborn calf I make it to the bath tub and collapse into the basin. Crawling I switch on the shower, not even caring that the water is ice cold, simply grateful for the waking effect the water has. Time is lost to me. I lay there for what seems like an eternity before I could move, but in realty no more than an hour has passed before I am able to move with any efficiency. I switch the water to warm and clean my self to the best of my ability. My muscles are weak and tire quickly but I do the best I can. Soon I am clean on to the bathroom floor now wrapped in towel, simply trying to work the energy to function. I must have nodded off because I wake with a knock from the door.

"Are you alive?" Steve asks cracking the door. His hand sweeps through and puts a pile of fabric on the counter.

"I brought you some clothes Anne left over here last week," He says snapping the door shut once more. With a groan I pull myself back up once more, my hair feels cold and slick across my back. I frown when I see it is Anne's school uniform. I consider for a moment putting back on my clothes, but decide against the smelly heap of fabric. Beggars can't be choosers. I pull on the knee length navy pleated skirt and smooth it out neatly. Then, with some difficulty I slide on the short sleeved white front button shirt and matching navy vest.

"Oh god," I mumble horrified by the effect of the clothes. I could very well actually pass for thirteen. I stumble out into the living room and spot the devious two on the couch. I scowl at Darren, telling him 'you should have stopped the idiot'. The other boy cringes and offers an apologetic look. Steve snickers at me as I collapse into the chair.

"What's so funny?" I sneer beyond pissed.

"You look cute," he taunts.

"Piss off," I growl standing up with a sway, "I'm leaving."

"You can't," Steve says standing up.

"Don't act like shit is OK between us!" Steve does not even cringe at me as I scream at him. Earlier he had when I yelled at him about Brennan but I guess I must have lost my intimidation factor. Unnervingly he stands there and stares at me unfeeling, slight confusion in his eyes.

"One would figure you would be more appreciative to the one who saved you," He retorts icily. Causing me to snort indignantly with laughter, if only I had been lucky enough for him to 'save' me sooner I could have traded him for Brennan's life. Not the noblest of thoughts but then again I never have been noble before.

"Saved me from what?!" I scream, "All you did was blind and drug me!"

"I saved you from the vampire," he answers staring at me accusingly. I feel like he sees through me and knows that I know. I'm usually a good liar but so is Steve, he spots me a mile away.

"The same one that might come back for you if you don't stay here with me," His voice is deep and demanding.

"Vampires don't exist," I croak half heartedly. Choking up, I cannot follow up my statement with anything better. My mind is flashing back to Mr. Crepsley, and even now I can feel the hum of his blood within my veins making the lie even harder.

"You were with him, I saw you!" He roars, stepping towards me, "Who knows what would have happened to you had we not spotted you guys." I freeze, something about his eyes does not settle right with me. They are not filled with concern as one would expect them to be; instead I see a misplaced emotion. I see an emotion I often see in Steve but now it is directed at me. I know deep down I am missing a pivotal piece of some larger puzzle. My body screams at me to run.

"And?" I challenge stamping down my fear, "I told you I would cure Brennan." He starts to rage but stops, I can see his brain ticking. My breath catches in my throat, and I instantly regret what I have unintentionally let slip.

"How did YOU cure Brennan?" He asks pointedly. I had completely forgotten that Brennan must have gotten better since I have been out. My heart lifts for a moment.

"I got Mr. Crepsley to cure him," I blurt out confused by the question (how else would I cure him?).

"Why would he do that?" he muses taking another step towards me.

"I convinced him," I say lower than the first time not fully understanding why he cares.

"How?" He asks sharply. I start to open my mouth to tell another lie but something about Steve's face that makes me hesitate. Steve senses my hesitation. He smirks as if I have just confirmed something.

"I told him what happen, and gave him his spider back," I swallow hard; "he turned out to be a reasonable man and agreed to cure him for five hundred dollars." I try to add detail to sound convincing. Surprisingly the anger leaves his face but relief does not come that easy.

"I'm just glad you're alright," He steps close for a hug. I do not want it but I do not move away in shock of his sudden change. He smiles with is arms open prepared to wrap around me. I feel uneasy but hold my arms half heartedly out; at the last moment his hand snaps out and seizes mine.

"What the-"I yelp as he forces my fingers open and inspects my finger tips. His face flushes bright red and he shoves me backwards viciously. A deep wave of terror quakes through my stomach as my eyes lock with his wild ones. I recognize the hidden emotion now. There is no trace of the Steve I know left in this shell; a jealous raging monster has taken his place.

"Hey!" Darren jumps from his silent place in the couch and stands between Steve and me. My ex-boyfriend shakes with fury.

"Move Darren," His voice sounds darks and down right evil, "She's one of them."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I scream back scrambling back up and trying to back away. His lips twist into a snarl that may have once passed as a smile.

"Ever coy as always Lucy," he taunts darkly, reaching inside the jacket he had been wearing. Something metallic catches the light and glints menacingly. Panic sets in and I make for the hall. Steve roars and darts after me. Darren tries to stop him but Steve knocks him out of the way without much difficulty. I try to round the edge of the couch but my depth perception is poor and I catch my hip on the edge, tripping myself in the process. He catches my foot and yanks me backwards on the carpet, the friction burning me as I go. I slide down with ease and Steve straddles me. A knife comes down but my arms flail up throwing his arm off target but earning a gash to my fore arm. He has a six inch single edged hunting knife, one I bought as a gift for him. Blood pours down my arms splattering me, Steve, and the carpet as I do my best to fight him off. He trust downwards and I roll, watching the knife bury into the carpet. With a cry I shove my foot into his chest with as much force as I could from the angle, and much to my surprise Steve is forced backwards a few feet falling on his back. I waste no time getting back up. I am on my feet and scrambling towards the front door within a second. Steve is recovering quickly. I spot Darren in the kitchen on the phone along the way, but do not anticipate him being able to help. I fumble with the locks but get them undone. Steve is on my trail quick though, and as soon as I am out the door he closes quickly. I make for the woods close by hoping to lose him in the cover. Amazingly even with my significantly shorter legs, I easily out distance him. I run as fast as my legs can carry me into the woods, finding the deepest thickest foliage I could find. Taking cover deep in the brush I lay flat, slowing my breath as much as possible. Long minutes pass before I hear any thing more. When I do, his foot steps seem to echo off the trees and ring in my ears. He follows a pattern but slowly I hear the steps approach my area. Steve stops; I hold my breath willing him away. Awful seconds tick by but eventually his pattern resumes and slowly makes his way deeper into the forest. I slowly release my breath but I continue to lay there, afraid to move. Minutes tick by in my mind but I know that I will need to run soon or risk passing out here. Willing myself to rise, I'm up and racing down the path back towards society, where hopefully Darren had called the cops. I can see the entrance to the forest and my heart lifts. But my nightmare is not done, a hand sweeps out around my waist and a scream tears from my throat. I collide with the ground and the air rushes out of my lungs. I attempt to throw him off again, succeeding in only launching my upper body away from him. He thrusts the knife downwards once more. This time the knife hits its mark, burying deep into my thigh. I howl in pain but continue to attempt to escape pulling away from him and hobbling to my feet. I'm not ready to die yet! Before he can get up I punch him in the face sending him back a few inches. I start to do my best to jog away. It takes Steve longer to recover but he is on me again within moments. All too well I know this is the end.

"You know Lucy, I wanted to be a vampire," Steve is walking towards my still stunned but confident in his kill.

"I asked him to make me one and he refused. He said I was too evil. You're not even worthy of being a vampire. You are weak. I made a promise that I would become a vampire hunter," He struts towards me as my body quakes pitifully, "Looks like you will be my first sweet heart." My eyes well with tears, and my mind goes numb. I never thought I would be this weak in the end. I always thought when my time came I would be brave enough to face it. But Steve is right, I am weak; all I can do is cry quietly and wait for death to take me. Please just let him hit something vital quickly. His eyes seem to glow as he comes at me. I'm done.

Big black and heavy it falls from the trees and lands straight on top of Steve, knocking the man unconscious. It takes me a second to realize he is really here, but no doubt about it, a grumpy orange hair vampire stands over Steve. I stare wide eyed at him. New tears rush to my eyes but these are tears of relief. Strangely, I feel like laughing.

"Hello," I whisper tears falling down, delirious laughter erupting from my throat as my focus shifts to the knife protruding from my thigh, "Nice of you to make an appearance."

"How bad are your injuries?" He asks coming over to me. I turn my leg to let him see the black handle sticking from my leg.

"I don't think it hit the artery," I say giving it an experimental tug. Although I have never been stabbed, it does not feel as painful as I had imagined. Don't get me wrong though it still hurts like hell. No time to worry about that now, I hear sirens wailing in the distance.

"We must go," He says urgently turning his head in the direction of the noise. No doubt the cops would talk to Darren and they would be all over the woods in mere minutes. I could stall. I could struggle enough to have the cops get here and save me. Perhaps I could even make a break for the entrance. I glance up at Mr. Crepsley and his expression sours.

"If you wish to leave," He steps to one side, "I will not stop you, but remember you will need me to survive." I take another distant look towards the entrance.

"Give me Steve's shirt," the vampire gives me a queer look, "I need to bandage my leg." He nods and not so gently rips off Steve's jacket and shirt. He hands me a long strip of t-shirt fabric. Bracing my self I take the knife handle at the angle of entrance.

"You know I could do this for you," Mr. Crepsley says but I ignore him as he did me, if only to prove a point. I take a deep breath and yank out the knife with a cry. More tears well up in my eyes but I disregard them. Wrapping my leg tight to slow the blood oozing from my legs I tie it tight and stand. Balancing most of my weight on my good leg I look up into Mr. Crepsley's face.

"Well," I lift an eyebrow expectantly, "What are we waiting for?" Silently he nods and helps me on to his back. With one last glance back, I see flashlights bouncing off the trees, my last hope of salvation is closing quickly. Maybe they would get here before he could run. But soon the world begins to slip away in a blur. I close my eyes and refuse to open them afraid that, if I do, I will break.


End file.
